Search

It has been over a month since I last wrote about the testimonies of Shalom Hollander, my grandfather’s cousin who wrote the Yad VaShem testimonies for about 40 members of my family including my great grandparents and a great uncle. I needed time away from the visions of horrors that his testimonies put into my mind as I thought of all these relatives who were lost. (See links to blogs below.)

But there was one last family that I was determined to write about because they all perished.

A family of five died in 1941-42. They were Hirsh Tzvi Feuer, the son of Eliezer and Leah Feuer, and his wife, Dvora Amsterdam, the daughter of Tzvi and Chava Amsterdam. As I have written in earlier blogs, the names Amsterdam and Feuer are common in my grandfather’s family. My great grandmother was an Amsterdam, also named Chava, and my great grandfather was a Feuer. They, my great grandparents were first cousins. There was so much intermarriage between these two families!

I have the names of all my great great grandparents and their siblings. And, although I have the names of my three times great grandparents, I do not know the names of their siblings. I am sure, however, that Hirsh Tzvi Feuer and Dvora Amsterdam’s parents are among those names. Shalom identifies himself as a relative in these testimonies. Also he indicates that Hirsh was a farmer, and my great grandparents and their families were farmers in Trzciana.

Tzvi was born in 1895 and his wife, Dvora, in 1908, which make them contemporaries of my grandparents who were born in 1900 and 1906. I would assume that my grandfather knew them when he was a child. They lived before the war in Wola Mielecka, Poland, but they lived during the war in Trzciana, Poland, my grandfather’s home town. Wola Mielecka was close by, all the surrounding areas to the town of Mielec, Poland.

Tzvi and Hava had three children who perished. Lea Feuer who was 4. Obviously named for her grandmother. Chava Feuer, age 6, named for the other grandmother. Then the third child, Eliezer, an infant, named for his grandfather.

I hope there are other children who survived. Who were older. Hirsh Tzvi was 47 when he was murdered. Dvora was 34. I hope there could have been several children in their early teens? Perhaps I am doing wishful thinking. But in my heart, I want them to have been survived by someone besides Shalom Hollander. I do not want this entire family to have perished.

But like the family of Shalom Hollander, there is a possibility that they were all murdered along with thousands of others when the Nazi’s made the Mielec area Judenfrie. Of the almost 4000 Jewish residents of the Mielec area, only a few hundred survived.

In February 2017 I published a blog about discovering my grandmother’s cousin was in Kielce, Poland, during the Pogrom in July 1946. (See blog link below.) Since then I have been continuing my research on the lost remnants of my grandparent’s families. Along the way, I have discovered more about Karola.

First off, I now know her entire name, which brings me more understanding. Korala’s mother and my great grandmother were sisters. My grandmother was her first cousin.

Our families did keep in touch. My father often went to Paris on business, occasionally my Mom would accompanied him and would visit a cousin who lived there. That cousin was Karola. She had changed her name from the Polish sounding to a more French name, and of course I recognized the last name.

In any case, it was when I found the village where my great grandmother was born, that I found also the Viroshov Yitzkor Book published in 1970. In it, written in Yiddish, was Karola’s testimony about the Kielce Pogrom. I must thank my friend, Blumah W., the local Chabbad rebbetzin, who spent several hours with me as she translated this moving memory.

I think with what is going on in Poland today, with the country’s wanting to deny their people’s involvement in the Nazi’s intent to destroy and annihilate the Jewish population. Karola’s story and memory is even more important because it tells the truth of what really happened in the years pre, during and after the war.

The Kielce Pogrom By Karola Manes F. as translated by Blumah W.

“A lot has already been told about the ferocious anti-Semitism of how the majority of Polish treated their Jewish neighbors during all the years of the Polish existence. It is still fresh in memory. The anti- Jewish politics in pre-war Poland using power against the Jewish workers and merchants, and the hooligans acting against the Jewish young students.

Also, during the time of the War, being under the German occupation, the Poles did not forget their anti-Semitic tradition. They were very much supportive of the Nazi program and worked with the Nazis for the annihilation of the Jewish nation. (“G-d forbid,” added by Blumah.)

When the war finished, the Jewish remnants were hidden in different places. A few Jewish people who were saved began to look in their birth places for their relatives; their flesh and blood. Also, then there came upon these survivors, unruly/wild Polish bandits, bands of Poles, who murdered these few left over Jews.

The culmination point of this ferocious Polish behavior was the tragic well-known Kielce Pogrom, which was accomplish over these few ‘leftovers’ in the summer of the year 1946.

Being be that I was in that time in Kielce where I lived through this tragic chapter, then I will tell what happened during this incident.

After the war, in Kielce there was the concentration of a larger group of Jews. The portion of them came from hidden places and from the forests, where they were involved with the armed partisans combat. Larger groups from back from Russia, where they found themselves during the time of the war. In order to deal with stream of survivors, a Jewish committee was formed that found themselves on Planty Street.

The Polish people right away, in the first days, immediately began to agitate and incite against the Jews. “TOO many of you remained!” They said with extreme hate.

The first provocation was when someone threw the dead body of a Christian woman into the Jewish compound. It was accompanied with an incitement that they said the Jews murdered this woman.

Only at night, Russian soldiers came dressed in Polish uniforms and made order. They arrested a number of Polish hooligans. The next morning, on the way to the funeral, the Jewish people accompanying the dead, were guarded by the Russian soldiers in order to avoid any further incidents by the wild and unruly Polish population

May these words act as a monument for the holy martyrs of the Kielce Pogrom; May G-d avenge their blood. “

In the last paragraphs, Karola does not talk about how people were murdered or what truly happened on the day of the pogrom. Instead she talks about the fact that it was Russian soldiers who stopped the pogrom by dispersing the Polish hooligans.

To be honest, I was a bit disappointed. I wanted to know from her mouth/her pen what truly happened. What she as a survivor saw. But then, I realized, it was too much. She had survived a ghetto, a concentration camp and now a pogrom, who am I to want more from her?

I recently saw the documentary, “Big Sonia,” about a local Kansas City area woman who survived the Holocaust and three concentration camps from ages 13 to 19; how she and her husband started their own tailor shop; how the tailor shop became an important part of her life; and how the Holocaust impacted her life, her family and those around her. Although I do not know Sonia, I do know her sister-in-law, who belongs to my congregation.

Both Sonia and Ann are contemporaries of my Mom. And when I hear of their Holocaust survival story, I cannot help but think, “there for the grace of G-d, could have been my Mom.” But she would have just been 10 when the horrors really began, and she might not have survived. It stabs at my heart. Here is why:

When I look at the smiling children in the 1931 passport, I feel fear in my heart. They are my Mom and my Uncle. My grandmother is getting ready to take them to Poland.

In 1931, most Jews in Poland and Europe were not yet concerned about escaping. Although Hitler’s rise to power was advancing, he did not become chancellor of Germany until January 1933. Thus, I guess in some ways, my Grandmother was not afraid to take her two small children, my Uncle, who was 4 ½, and my Mom, who was 2 1/2, to Europe to stay with family while she tried to regain her health.

The kneeling sailor is speaking to my Mom; behind her my Uncle; behind him my Grandma.

I always knew this had occurred. I have seen the photo taken of my Mom and Uncle on the ship to Europe. I knew that my grandmother almost died aboard the ship on the way to Europe. I have seen several photos of my grandmother in Kalsbadt and with family members during that trip.

Both their visa and Passport were issued on May 18, 1931. I think their visa was good until May 18, 1932. This part of the Visa is in German. Since my Grandfather’s family lived in the area of Galicia which was then Austria, it makes sense. They arrived in Europe on May 26, 1931.

I heard the stories of my Mom and Uncle coming back from Europe only speaking Yiddish. Their English left them while they spent six months with their paternal grandparents. This would not happen again, as these grandparents perished in the Shoah.

This registers my uncle and mom as living in Boleslawiec.

But now that I have the Passport, and have had part of it translated, I know that this story is not totally true. They spent at least two and half months in Boleslawiec, Poland, from August 14 to October 3, 1931. This is where my Grandmother was born. They spent at least that time staying with their maternal grandfather and his children. That was a surprise.

So at some point, my Grandmother traveled across Europe with two small children, going from Mielic, Galicia, Austria, to Boleslawiec, Poland. WOW. I wonder how the trains were then. I am sure she went with her American dollars and was able to travel easily. But the idea of them on a train in Austria and Poland sends shivers through my body. I can so easily image the other members of my family who traveled on much less kind trains a number of years later to their deaths in the concentration camps.

I also knew it was this trip and her visits to the mineral waters of Kalsbadt that saved and cured my grandmother. Her experiences in Europe over these months also made her resolute to get as many family members out of Europe that she could. Unfortunately, she was only successful in rescuing her father and sister. Her in laws refused to leave, and they perished.

However, until I held the Passport that jointly named my Uncle and Mom as USA citizens and saw the visas, I somehow did not quite fathom the enormous consequences. This passport was only valid for two years. What if they had been stuck in Europe? I had asked my grandfather when I was younger what he would have done if Grandma died in Europe. He assured me that he was not going to leave his children in Europe. He let her go because she was ill, but his children would return to the USA.

That always made me feel better, as the family they stayed with, my grandfather’s family, all perished. I always believed that Grandma took the children to her in-laws and traveled by herself. But that is not true. She also took them to see her father and siblings as well. And miraculously my Grandmother’s two brothers and their wives survived even though Grandma could not get them out of Poland.

The Passport was originally made out only for my Uncle in May 1931. I found that strange. Was my Grandmother going to leave my 2-year-old mother with my grandfather in the States, while she traveled with my Uncle? What changed her mind? I will never know that story. I found the Passport long after my grandmother had passed away.

I do know that they came home. They arrived back in the USA on October 13, 1931. I can see the US Immigration stamp. The trip itself took a week or so crossing the Atlantic. They grew up in New Jersey. They married. They had children and grandchildren. Their memories of Europe faded quickly. Perhaps my Uncle remembered more, but for my Mom it was just stories she heard.

My Mom did not go through the horrors and Hell that Big Sonia experienced. Her American Passport and visa and ticket to return saved her and my uncle. In 1936 Mom went with my Grandmother to Ellis Island to gather my great grandfather and Tante (great aunt). My Grandmother was successful in saving them.

Not everyone had a life saving Passport. I often think of those who perished. I still remember the day I found out about the Holocaust. I cannot forget.

With the vitriol and anti-Semitic language and acts of bullying throughout the country, I think it is important that no one forgets. Everyone should go and see “Big Sonia” and learn about real courage, and the horrible consequences of baseless hatred and bigotry.

Thank you to members of the Facebook Groups: Tracing the Tribe and Jewish Ancestry in Poland for the translations.